The Netroots panel on trolls went OK although the audience was more diffuse than the panel, adding to a fairly vague and underpopulated hour. DJ Danielson was in the second row and says he put a phone pic of my Mitch Berg caricature on his Facebook page.
I didn’t say we didn’t have any fun.
But I think my panel days are best left behind me. I didn’t lay awake last night worrying about what I was going to say. I didn’t bother to prepare any notes (altho I did have a file folder with some scrap paper in it). Minnesota Observer had notes. Typed notes. Flash brought a laptop and actually used it like a teleprompter.
I just showed wondering if anyone else would and, if so, whether they had problems with trolls or if maybe they were in the wrong room. What I figured out was that AFSCME sent lots of folks and our content wasn’t really relevant to their needs.
Everyone survived and the corporate pr flack on the other end of the second row from DJ seemed to have gotten some usable notes out of the experience. I talked to her thinking she was a reporter but I should have known she wasn’t. Reporters don’t take that many notes.
Stayed for one beer but I fear my schmoozing days are over. Kept talking about getting up and working the room but I didn’t, mostly because most of the people I wanted to see were already sitting at my table.
Old, I am. Getting used to it, more so.
African jazz/jazz/etc tonight. Maybe not what you were expecting but (more or less) it’s what the iGods served up.
I write these posts as I listen to and edit the set. At this moment I have to lose 19MB but I’m not having any luck. Good flow and no shortage of surprises for folks who take the illo too seriously (it used to be a Les Baxter cover). Jazz fusion as I define it is a good thing.
Besides, I have no idea what to call Manu Dibango’s movie music other than jazz fusion. And I see no reason why Santana can’t make an appearance in a jazz set, bearing in mind that Carlos doesn’t do cool. Peter King is someone no one in this country has heard nearly enough of, and how do you argue with Jeff Beck and Eric Clapton when it’s coming from a guy who only keeps their stuff if it fits into a jazz folder?
Link.
Figure 200MB and two hours of music. A deal at half the steal.
No tunes next week as I’ll be out and about for the holidays. Hence the drinking tonight. Pommedrivers again. It’s what I have so it’s what I’m drinking, but I’m sure the variety will be a bit more varietized on the road. I’m not drinking tonight so much as training for the holidays. I may not have mentioned it before, but I have wicked, wicked friends.
Bordering on sick with noticeable pathologies and easily implied anomalies.
I would be a better person had I never met them. A church going member of the Chamber of Commerce mayhaps. Our friendships endure mostly because no one else would put up with them, and me by association. I am without a doubt the most innocent of all passersby in this most abject of sordid companies.
These gentlemen have at various times been lewd, screwed and sued, and not always in that order. Each is in his own right notorious, but sometimes in good ways.
Er, what I meant to say is that you can be notorious for good reasons. I did not mean to suggest that any affirmative interpretation would in any way apply to any of the people I’m visiting, all of whom have a well oiled spade in the toolshed and unlabeled veterinary products in their medicine chests.
In their defense and to the best of my knowledge none of them have ever eaten human flesh. Brains maybe, but not flesh.
And they all acquire their music legally, a practice I cannot understand, condone or defend.
